


Summer In The City

by duckbunny



Series: Camaraderie [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Masochism, Non-Sexual Kink, Platonic BDSM, Play Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:52:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5614636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckbunny/pseuds/duckbunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurens tries not to fall. Hamilton tries not to follow. It's harder than either of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer In The City

Alexander gets used to seeing his friends fight. Lafayette will needle Laurens until he loses his temper; Laurens takes up flirtation, stepping inside Lafayette's reach and daring him to do something about it. Lafayette has more care – Laurens will go after him in public, and sometimes get his fight, but Lafayette never starts it where gossip might follow. Alexander watches with a concern he can't understand, as Laurens gets taken down over and over, and Lafayette's smile widens.

 

**

 

Laurens increasingly feels like a pendulum. For a few days, at best, he'll be himself, able to think and write without distraction. Then the storm gathers and his head buzzes and his skin tries to crawl entirely away from his back and he can't help himself, he has to do something. Like push Lafayette until he pushes back, because Lafayette won't really hurt him.

He tells himself it's just that, just blowing off steam with friends, while Lafayette shows him all the ways a person can be pinned to the ground.

 

**

 

Alexander tries to keep his hands to himself. He's sitting on the floor, which was perhaps not the wisest thing when his friends decided to wrestle, because now Laurens is laughing and clinging to his leg. Lafayette is trying to drag him back, but Laurens has one boot planted firmly in his chest and for once is succeeding at fending him off. Alexander really shouldn't care either way. He shouldn't have this shivery feeling in his chest that wants to see what he knows will happen if he grabs Laurens' wrists.

But he does, and he's never been good at resisting temptation. He reaches down, a careful inch or so clear of making contact, and says lightly “Hello, Laurens.” Laurens looks up at once, and doesn't pull away; he splutters, “Oh, shit!” through his laughter and forgets to keep kicking Lafayette. So Alexander wraps his hands around Laurens' wrists and bears down hard, to watch how his smile gives way to breathless surrender.

 

**

 

It's not enough. Laurens can impose on his friends until even Lafayette is sick of fighting with him, can cling to the moments when he's overpowered and everything goes still, but it doesn't last. The quiet fades away, the pendulum swings back. He'd swear it's getting faster. The itch under his skin never entirely leaves.

It's there now, in full force, and he refuses to give in to it. It's late. It's raining. Laurens is not going out in the rain to pick a fight for no good reason, it's too ridiculous. So instead he's sitting here on his own, trying to find another way to calm the storm himself.

Gripping his own wrist does nothing. He tries working his hand into his hair, along the back of his skull, and pulls; that does work, makes his breathing quicken and his thoughts narrow to just that pressure, that spark of pain. Laurens pushes up instinctively; but it's just his own hand, no solid weight of anyone there to push him back down, and the itch is a hungry ache beneath his ribs. Desperately, he bites at his arm, trying to find the way Lafayette pushes into his mouth that makes everything else let go, but all he feels is the pain from his teeth and how much better it would feel to give in, give up and let someone else do the biting.

He's shaking a little. This is ridiculous, it's shameful, and he – he can't do without it, not tonight. So Laurens snatches up his coat and hurries out into the rain, with only the vaguest idea of where he's going.

Money can buy many things. Including silence.

 

**

 

Alexander notices the moment Laurens walks in. He can't say at first exactly what's different about his friend, but he spends half the evening trying to work it out, staring whenever he can get away with it, watching how Laurens talks and moves and laughs, how his eyes are bright but he leans almost bonelessly against the wall, how he just scowls at back-handed insults that some nights would have him throwing punches. The conclusion ought to be obvious – Mulligan's smirk says he's already leapt to it – but Alexander can think of nothing less probable than that Laurens has been out bedding anyone. The only time he ever looks so relaxed is after the scuffles that Mulligan has so deftly not been invited to.

And those scuffles certainly do not leave him so contented, for so long. The only answer, though it makes Alexander's breath catch in his throat, is that Laurens has found some way to consummate the hunger that Lafayette, however they both smile, is only intensifying. It means that all their fights have only been a tease. The look Laurens gets when he's pinned down is only the start of what he's looking for, and Alexander burns to know what the rest might be.

 

**

 

Laurens' back is still stinging with shallow fingernail scratches when Lafayette grabs him from behind. He yelps and wriggles, arms already pinned to his sides by the bear-hug and Lafayette growling with mock-savagery in his ear, which is surprisingly pleasant. He's expecting to be taken down to the floor, but Lafayette pushes him up against the wall instead and yanks his arms above his head. Laurens lets his forehead rest against the wall, revelling in that fierce grip upon his wrists, the way that Lafayette doesn't let him go even as he shifts his hold, pinning Laurens with one hand to free up the other for pulling at his hair and stroking feather-light over his throat. He's having to bite back his moans when Lafayette starts tugging at the back of his shirt, pulling it out from his trousers.

Laurens freezes. “Hey,” he manages, “stop that.”

Lafayette just laughs, and reaches around him to work at the buttons of his waistcoat. “Make me,” he jokes, and Laurens does, because this isn't okay. He does _not_ want someone else removing his clothing without permission. He surges backwards, shoving Lafayette away with as much force as he can muster and hauling his arms down hard. He puts his weight into it, determined to break Lafayette's grip, and it throws them both off balance but when he staggers back he's free, Hamilton pushing between them to keep Lafayette back. Laurens glares.

“Not funny,” he snaps, and Lafayette apologises at once, in carefully light tones that make it a joke gone wrong and not whatever it really is, to hold such weight. Hamilton doesn't step away until the apology is done, looking like he might fight Lafayette himself if he comes a step closer, watching Laurens with wide, dark eyes.

Lafayette doesn't needle him so much after that, and Laurens doesn't provoke him, their easy understanding lost. Hamilton just watches them both, and keeps the conversation from dangerous turns.


End file.
